Sunday has  come and gone and these lines will let you know what went on...

I went to bed very late; actually it was very early in the  morning after what I described in my last diary entry concerning the very special tour of my SWEET HOME here at the seminary. It took place in the darkness of the tropical night. The tour in which I was the tourist guide and the only one who registered for the tour. It began a few hours after a conversation we had during a late supper and ended before just before dawn. I woke up “very early in the morning of the same day” and realized that my eyes had been closed for only an hour and 23 minutes.

The big day began with a greeting from my neighbor, one of the Seminary Rector’s assistants whose room was located across from mine from May 30, 1990 to September 6, 1991. Instead of greeting me with a “hello”, he said: “you did not sleep, did you?” No answer from me, but he answered his own question: “It has been a long time and I understand.” We laughed and he went back to his room. It was 4:52 a.m. on Sunday November 27, 2010.

A quick shower with cold water from the well left me fully awake. I wanted to say hello to the sun through the willow tree as it was my habit innumerable times when I was here, for long or short periods of time. It was a wonderful feeling to meet the sun, my friend who touched my face softly with his rays through the willow leaves. I stood there about 30 minutes and then left because “my friend” had to go to give some heat to people who were beginning to feel the “cold of the tropical winter.”

Dennis was still in bed, not feeling well. After Morning Prayer, I joined the rest of  the “new seminarians” - the ninth class after 1975 (fall of Saigon) for breakfast (we eat three meals a day together). I was introduced by the director of studies as a “member of this house” – not as a visitor. When we finished our breakfast, the director of studies prepared a cup of coffee for Dennis. We both entered Dennis’ room but Dennis did not fill his stomach with anything except water. A first time I asked Dennis if he was able to attend the early mass. He said that he would try to make it when the noise from motor scooters got louder and louder.

I went out and began chatting with everyone I met on the way to the Pastoral Center. Many of them were surprised by my appearance. At 8:00 a.m., the bishop came and I had a 20 minutes conversation with him before he headed to the Pastoral Center to greet people. I walked another way, slowly made a circle of the Pastoral Center to find my class mates who had come to the celebration. Three of them could not come because of emergency calls from their parishes. Then, I tried to meet every single priest from my diocese, at least to say hello. I did so. I said hello to 160 priests of my diocese who were my professors, my mentors, my pastors, my friends, my brothers. It was 9:05 a.m. I returned to Dennis’ room to ask a second time about how he was feeling. It was clear that he could not come. I wish he could have witnessed this celebration; but God had other plans.

I returned to the Center a few minutes before the celebration. The Mass began with a greeting from the bishop at 9:30 a.m. and ended at 11 AM with a word from the director of the Pastoral Center who was a member of the last class before 1975.

We had prepared 19,000 lunch packages. It wasn’t enough. Many people from the neighboring parishes had to go home without any food and nothing but a souvenir hat. I sat between the bishop and the Seminary Rector during lunch. This has been a traditional arrangement in my diocese for many years. It is not a good place to enjoy a meal because it is an unwritten law which we – seminarians and priests – know by heart; sitting at that spot means that an important conversation/information will take place. We know that this way of exchanging information is safe and we won’t be looked at by many “wandering eyes”. I kept answering his questions about my life in US, my studies, my work, and my family as is usual. Then we made our way directly to the meat of the conversation. I left lunch as soon as I knew that we had covered all the important matters. I went back to Dennis’ room and informed him that the bishop would like to see him privately in 15 minutes.

Bishop and Dennis had a good conversation the details of which Dennis will give you upon on return. I made a big mistake. I forgot to take a picture of Dennis and the bishop. Up to this point, this was the only picture that I was told I had to take and I blew it. Dennis seemed to enjoy the conversation even he had not yet recovered fully from his upset stomach.  I escorted the bishop from Dennis’ room to the chapel of the seminary. We stood there talking while waiting for his car to arrive. He had to go to the capital for a business meeting of the Vietnamese Bishops' Conference at 3 p.m.  When he left, I went back to Dennis’ room and forced him to eat something. It was already well into the day and he had nothing in his stomach. So, he had a small bowl of rice soup with salt. We made some plans for our afternoon if Dennis was feeling better after a nap.

Leaving his room, I quickly changed myself into a “tourist man” and rode a motor scooter to visit some of my friends. I did not want a minute to pass by without doing something. I came back to see Dennis around a quarter to four. He was ready to make good on the plans we had made.

We went to Lac Duong parish where I served from 1991 to 1995. It is a 100 percent minority parish. It is the only church in the entire area which is very large: 86 kilometers (55 miles) from east to west and 70 kilometers (45 miles) from north to south. We were received by the pastor who arrived there two months before me and that was the first time after 1975 that Mass was celebrated. When all the “reception rituals” had ended, Dennis took a rest in the guest room while I ran from house to house trying to catch people I knew. I forgot some of their language at first, then it came back, not naturally as before, but it was nice to speak in the Lat language again after such a long time.

When the sun went to bed, I brought Dennis to a family of one of my students who is waiting for his ordination now. Dennis experienced the way in which minority people live and work… I am sure that Dennis will give you all plenty of details with his extraordinary storytelling talent that we all enjoy.

We left Lac Duong around 8 p.m. and arrived back safely. I briefly informed Dennis of my plan for the next day . That night, while Dennis rested, I went out again to meet some people who organized a small gathering so that we could all catch up with each other. I returned to the parish around 11 p.m. The minority seminarian was sitting on the step of the chapel waiting for me. We talked, talked and talked. We paused and were silent. It seemed too much for both of us to experience again how important friendship is. He told me I had to go to bed after a 2 hours  of talking.

I lay down in bed and thought of my family in Australia. I knew it was the regular time for my conversation with my mom and dad. I did call but we did not spend much time because I did not have a telephone card.

The soft wind outside helped the pines and the willows sing a beautiful song which all of the native people of Dalat consider to lullaby. I became a baby who had a hard time to sleep even though Mother Nature was singing to put me to sleep. It was dark outside, but I saw clearly the paths around the house and the garden. It was absolutely quiet as Saint Joseph’s Abbey in Spencer is in the midst of winter, but I could hear echoing in my heart so many lovely voices of people, friends. The moon had just said good bye to the stars after a short visit because it is close to the end of a lunar month.

I didn't get out of bed even if I was tempted. I started to count numbers hoping that I would forget which number would be the last…  I didn't want to sing along with the lullaby song… I needed sleep…………

Love,

Br. Dinh G. Vo Tran, A.A

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter I

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter II

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter III

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter V

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter VI

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter VII

A Vietnamese Diary: Chapter VIII